MEMENTO MORI (Theon Greyjoy)
by Kiara Biersack
Summary: 'We all die in the end.'
1. Summary

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="99698033fec584857c337f8ffa4748eb"Beyond the Wall had always been a home to Anera. Since she was old enough to walk she learned how to shoot a bow and fight with knives. She's free./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="6537a2c6ee5a793032340d523c0cd2d5"But things are changing in the Land of Always Winter, and deadly new forces are being awakened that haven't been seen for centuries. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="a87b3a5dd50f7222e859571f7d13c5d1"After joining a party traveling past the Wall, Anera encounters Brandon Stark. Saving young Bran's life, however, is a man that Anera would expect to put an arrow through, not fall in love with./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="4587622440638a0380f571523b6d36cb"Theon Greyjoy is the forgotten son of Balon Greyjoy. Taken as a ward from to Eddard Stark when he was only eight, Theon has spent more than half of his life living with the Stark children./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="5d508181581c44faee94022f25110c83"Fate forces Anera and Theon together, each promising the other a slow and painful death. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="46d74145bda5bfb0aa268fa9d21acd8b"Anera promises that death comes for them all in the end, and the best thing to do is just remember that fact./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222; text-align: center;" data-p-id="1b3672e35c77f2bc898a964fd7ca79ce"Remember that they will die./p 


	2. One

The woods here were warmer than those beyond the Wall. Anera's heavy cloak was slung over her arm. Her dark hair waved in the faint breeze, freed from the tight braid she typically kept it in. Beside her walked one of her companions, Osha, whose wild hair stuck out around her head.

Anera kept her bow close at hand. There was a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, fletched with dark black feathers. She scanned the trees, blue eyes darting across rock and moss. She heard the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, then, a quiet, faraway sound that seemed to be coming closer.

Anera froze. Her hand flashed out to grab Osha by the shoulder. "Quiet," she hissed, and her four companions did as told.

Through the silence, the sound of excited cheers broke out. A smile played at Anera's lips. The sound faded into nothing, but still, Anera and the others kept quiet. "Behind the trees," she whispered, and everyone did as told.

A young boy rode on a horse, looking around the forest as he did. The horse pawed anxiously at the dirt. Anera watched Osha come out from behind a tree. The rest followed, keeping a safe distance from the boy and his horse. At the sound of footsteps, the horse whinnied, and the boy asked nervously, "Robb?"

They were surrounding him in an instant. Osha took the horse by the reins, grinning as she looked at the boy. "All alone in the deep, dark, woods," she noted.

He looked around before he replied, "I'm not alone. My brother is with me."

"I don't see anyone else," Anera said.

"Got him hidden under your cloak?" one of her companions, Stiv, asked with a laugh.

Anera looked the boy over with a smile, eyes falling on a pin attached to his cloak. "That's a pretty little thing. Looks like silver, I'd say," she said.

"We'll take the pin and the horse," Stiv said. He nodded to the boy. "Get down."

When the boy made no indication of moving, Stiv pressed, "be quick about it."

"I can't," the boy said. "The saddle- - the straps."

Anera's third companion, Wallen, quickly moved the boy's cloak aside to see the straps that kept his legs secured at the horse's sides. "What's wrong with you?" Stiv demanded. "You some kind of cripple?"

"I'm Brandon Stark of Winterfell," the boy said. "If you don't let me be, I'll have you all killed!"

Stiv drew his knife as Wallen began to work at the straps. "Cut his little cock off and stuff it in his mouth," Wallen stated.

"The boy's worth nothing dead," Osha said. "Benjen Stark's own blood? Think what Mance would give us."

Stiv moved one of the straps, his blade slicing Brandon's leg cleanly. Brandon hardly even moved. "Piss on Mance Rayder and piss on the North," Stiv said. "We're going as far South as South goes. There ain't no White Walkers down in Dorne."

Anera saw a figure advancing, and in an instant she nocked an arrow, raising her bow level with him. "Drop the knife!" the new man stated. "And that bow! Let him go and I'll let you live."

Anera couldn't help but to chuckle as he drew his sword. She looked at Brandon. "This your brother?" she asked.

Brandon said nothing. Stiv shoved Wallen forward. Wallen let out a yell, swinging his ax at the man, who dodged swiftly. Each swing of the ax was dodged until the man ducked low, his blade shoving through Wallen's neck. Wallen dropped.

Stiv occupied himself with Brandon, who struggled to free himself from Stiv's grip. Osha charged the man, connecting a hit to his back with her mace. Anera stepped back, trying her best to keep the arrow aimed at the back of the man's head. He spun to face Osha, knocking her to the ground. He twisted his hand through Osha's hair, keeping her firmly in place. Anera's final companion ran at him, only to be stabbed through the chest.

Stiv managed to get Brandon from the horse's back, holding the boy tight to his chest, knife pressed to his throat. "Robb," Brandon said.

"Shut up," Stiv snapped. Then to the man, seemingly Robb, he said, "drop the blade!"

"No, don't," Brandon urged.

"Do it!" Anera said, moving to aim the arrow at Robb's eye.

Robb hesitated, slowly lowering his sword to the ground. Stiv nodded, then, suddenly, he dropped Brandon, crying out as an arrow flew through his chest. Anera spun around to see another man had entered the clearing. His bow was raised to her, and she dropped her weapon in an instant, lowering to her knees and bowing her head. There was no use fighting now. The man advanced on her, arrow aimed carefully. Robb released Osha, moving to Brandon. "Are you all right?" he asked, nodding toward the cut on his leg.

"Yes," Brandon said. "It doesn't hurt."

Robb lifted Brandon from the ground. Anera glanced up at the man. "Get to your friend," he instructed. "Don't try and stand up or this arrow goes through your eye."

She spat at his feet, glaring as she did as told, joining Osha. The man looked back at Robb. "Tough little lad," he said. "In the Iron Islands, you're not a man until you've killed your first enemy. Well done."

"Have you lost your mind?" Robb asked after a moment. "What if you'd missed?"

"He would have killed you and but Bran's throat," the man said.

"You don't have the right- -"

"To what, to save your brother's life? It was the only thing to do, so I did it."

Robb hesitated, looking toward Anera and Osha. "What about them?"

The man kept his arrow trained as Osha looked at Robb. "Give me my life, my lord, and I'm yours," she begged.

Anera made no such promise, not even speaking until the man kicked her hard in the side. She shot him a glare, finally saying, "I can serve you, my lord."

Robb nodded. "We'll keep them alive."

A smile broke out on Osha's face as she sighed with relief. Anera moved to squeeze her shoulder.

She had left Mance Rayder's servitude only to enter another.


	3. Two

Anera had never thought she would find herself like this. Tending fires in a castle with her ankles in chains. She glanced back to see Osha, struggling to keep a bundle of sticks tied together. Footsteps sounded behind them, and Anera lifted her gaze to the man from the forest, whose name she had quickly learned was Theon. The moment his green eyes met her blue ones, she looked away. "You're both very lucky girls. Do you know that?" he asked.

Osha gave a stiff nod, but Theon only continued. "Where I come from, we don't show mercy to criminals. Where I come from, if someone like you two attacked a little lord? At low tide we'd lay you on your back on the beach, your hands and feet chained to four stakes. The sea would come in closer and closer. You'd see death creeping toward you a few inches at a time."

Anera fought the urge to smirk as she asked, "where exactly do you come from?"

Theon started to move toward her as he answered, "the Iron Islands."

"They far away at all?" Anera pressed.

He seemed stunned. "You've never heard of the Iron Islands?"

"Trust me. You wouldn't have heard of where we're from neither," Anera replied, nodding toward Osha.

"'Trust me, my lord,'" he corrected, and when Anera and Osha looked at him confusedly, he continued, "you're not living in the wilderness anymore. In civilized lands, you refer to your betters by their proper titles."

"And what's that?" Osha asked.

"Lord," Theon replied.

"Why?" Osha said.

Theon was unamused. "Why?" he asked. "What do you mean why? My father is Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands."

"What has that got to do with you?" Anera asked.

She looked at Theon, feigning curiosity. "If your father's the lord, how can you be the lord, too?"

"I will be the lord after my father- -" Theon began.

"But you're not the lord yet."

"No, you- - Are you having a go at me? Is that what you're doing?"

Anera shook her head. "Of course not, my lord. I just don't understand how you southerners do things."

"I'm not a southerner," Theon stated.

"You're from south of the Wall. That means you're a southerner."

Anera heard Osha snort at that. She looked away when she heard Theon coming toward her, hardly flinching when he grabbed her face, bringing her head up to meet his eyes fully. "You are an impudent wench, aren't you? You and your friend."

She shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know what 'impunent' means."

"Impudent," he corrected. "And it means rude."

At that, she fought the urge to smile. "Can't you just say rude, then? Or do like having your fancy words, my lord?"

He glared, reaching to pull the chain around her ankles. "You want to lose this chain?"

"Theon Greyjoy!"

The three of them all looked up to see an elderly man, who Anera knew to be called Maester Luwin. Theon dropped Anera, getting to his feet and putting his hands behind his back. "The ladies are our guests," Maester Luwin said.

"I thought they were our prisoners," Theon replied.

"Are the two mutually exclusive in your experience?"

Anera smiled to herself, getting back to placing firewood into the fireplace. Theon held back a retort, turning and leaving the room. Maester Luwin sighed. "Chances are I won't be nearby the next time that happens," he told Osha and Anera.

"We're used to worse than him," Osha said, and when Maester Luwin raised an eyebrow, she explained. "We're used to men that could chew that boy up and pick their teeth with his bones."

Maester Luwin chuckled at that, moving to look at the two women. "Why did you come here?" he asked.

"Didn't mean to come here," Anera replied. "We needed to get much farther south than this. As far south as south goes, before the Long Night starts."

"Why?" Maester Luwin asked. "What are you afraid of?"

Anera let out a low breath, raising her head to meet his eyes. "There are things that sleep during the day and hunt at night."

"Owls and shadowcats- -"

"I'm not talking about owls and shadowcats."

Maester Luwin looked as if he wanted her to elaborate, but Anera went silent. He hesitated. "The 'things' you speak of- - they've been gone for thousands of years."

"They wasn't gone, old man," Osha said. "They was sleeping. And they ain't sleeping no more."

One morning, ravens flew from Winterfell. Hundreds of them took to the sky, squawking loudly. Anera watched them through a window, her blue eyes wide. She had never seen so many birds all at once. Beyond the Wall, the only birds she saw were snowy white owls or bright red robins. For a moment she began to wonder what it would be like out of the chains around her ankles, running through the forest with all those birds above her. Her thoughts were broken by Theon's voice. "What are you doing?"

"Watching the ravens," she said, not even sparing him a glance.

"You have work to do," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. "Sorry, my lord. I'm just distracted."

She turned to face him, offering a flash of a smile. Theon was not amused. He pushed her down the hallway. "Get back to your work."

Withholding a growl, she nodded obediently. "Of course, my lord."

He took her wrist then, and she whirled around to face him, teeth bared in a snarl. He raised an eyebrow, grip tightening. "You're on thin ice," he stated. "You have to show respect to your betters."

She pulled her wrist free. "You may have me in chains," she stated, "but you're not my better."

He raised a hand to slap her. She caught his wrist, fingernails digging into the skin. "The minute I'm out of these chains, I promise you, boy, I'll put a dagger through your eye."

His green eyes locked with her blue ones. In her grip, his hand was shaking with rage. He curled it into a fist, lowering his arm. "You'll never leave those chains if you keep acting like this."

There was a strange sincerity to his words that made her drop his wrist. She turned away, starting to walk down the hall, calling back, "I could've broken your wrist then. Don't get so close if you don't want the consequences."

Surprisingly, Theon had no retort.


	4. Three

Robb Stark left one morning. From what Anera could gather, he was planning to go to war. The idea seemed trivial to her. They were heading in the wrong direction. The true enemy was the creatures beyond the Wall. Thankfully enough, however, Theon was going with Robb, which meant she wouldn't have to endure his taunting. Another minute of it and she had half a mind to kill him while he slept.

She had been wondering how she could kill the pompous lordling. The Starks didn't trust she and Osha nearly enough to allow her into the kitchens where she could get her hands on a knife to plant in Theon's heart. Theon had taken her bow and mocked her for how it was made. He'd made her watch him practice his archery, saying that she would never have the skill he possessed. How she longed to get a hold of his own bow and send an arrow through his neck.

Despite the obvious lack of trust between the Starks and the two women, Osha and Anera were allowed to venture the Godswood, so long as they remained in their chains. She was growing strangely used to the feeling of the added weight on her legs. For the first few days, she had found herself tripping over her own feet, but now she could walk with little difficulty. She and Osha found Brandon Stark sat in front of a weirwood, praying softly. "Please watch over Robb," he was saying. "And watch over all the other men from Winterfell. And Theon, too, I suppose."

"You hear them, boy?" Osha asked, looking up at the trees. "The Old Gods are answering you."

"What are you doing here?" Brandon asked, looking up at the two women.

"They're our Gods, too," Osha said. "Beyond the Wall, they're the only Gods. Even slaves are allowed to pray."

"You aren't slaves."

Anera snorted at that, shaking her leg to make the chains clink together softly. "Well, your friend did put a knife to my throat," Brandon pointed out.

"We're not complaining, little lord, just telling truths," Osha said.

He hesitated a moment before he asked, "what did you mean about hearing the Gods?"

A smile played at Anera's face. "You asked them and now they're answering. Quiet, now. Listen."

His eyes drifted up to the red leaves of the weirwood. "It's only the wind."

Osha shook her head. "Who do you think sends the wind if not the Gods? They see you, boy. They hear you. Your brother will get no help from them where he's going. The Old Gods have no power in the South. The weirwoods there were all cut down a long time ago. How can they watch when they have no eyes?"

Anera jumped slightly at the sound of footsteps advancing, turning to see quite possibly the largest man she had ever seen. He was grinning, completely naked. She held back her laughter as she averted her gaze. Osha chuckled. "Well, there's a big man," she said. "He has giant's blood in him or I'm the Queen."

Brandon sighed. "Go back and find your clothes, Hodor. Go dress," he instructed.

The man, Hodor, nodded. "Hodor," he said, and he disappeared into the trees once again.

Brandon looked to Osha and Anera. "Are there really giants beyond the Wall?" he asked.

Anera's smile faded. She met his gaze fully, her voice cool as she replied, "giants and worse than. We told your brother, he's marching the wrong direction. All of these swords should be heading North, little lord. North, not South. There's cold winds rising."

His face looked solemn. He turned away from her, staring up at the weirwood again. The wind fluttered through the crimson leaves.

One morning, Brandon woke with a strange dream. Anera and Osha listened as he explained to them the raven that had led him through the crypts. "It had three eyes," he was saying. "It told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts and my father was there."

"Your father's not down there, little lord," Osha eased. "Not for many years yet."

"You're both afraid. Just like Hodor," Brandon said.

"We're not scared of some hole in the ground," Anera replied.

He looked between the two women as he said, "you've both lived beyond the Wall. What are you scared of? I'm a crippled boy and I'm willing to go."

That seemed enough to convince Anera and Osha. As they ventured into the dark crypt, Osha carried Brandon in her arms. He pointed at each statue, reciting the names. "That's my grandfather, Lord Rickard. He was burned alive by the Mad King, Aerys. That's Lyanna, my father's sister. King Robert was supposed to marry her, but Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped her. Robert started a war to win her back. He killed Rhaegar. But she died anyway."

He pointed at an empty space. "That's where I saw Father," he said.

Anera managed to smile, though the crypt was making anxiety swim in the pit of her stomach. "You see, little lord? Your father isn't here."

A snarl sounded from the darkness, and Anera turned to face their attacker. Out of the pitch black came a direwolf, it's yellow eyes glowing as it snapped and snarled. Osha dropped to the ground with Brandon, while Anera stood frozen in place. "Here, Shaggydog!" a voice called, and the youngest Stark, Rickon, emerged.

"Rickon!" Brandon cried.

"That beast is supposed to be chained in the kennels!" Osha snapped.

Rickon shook his head. "He doesn't like chains."

Brandon released a sigh, looking at his younger brother. "What are you doing down here? Come back up with us."

"No, I came to see Father," Rickon said indignantly.

"How many times have I told you? He's in King's Landing with Sansa and Arya."

Once more, the six-year-old shook his head. "He was down here. I saw him."

"Saw him when?" Brandon pressed.

"Last night, when I was sleeping."

He turned to his direwolf, waving a hand. "Here, Shaggydog," he said before he and the beast disappeared into the darkness once more.

Anera let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She and Osha shared a confused look with Bran.

"You both miss him. It's only natural he should be in your thoughts and dreams, but that doesn't mean that- -" Osha began as they made their way out of the crypt, Anera's eyes falling on Maester Luwin, who looked crestfallen as he read a letter in his hands.

Osha went silent. Maester Luwin looked at the trio, breathing out a sigh. "Bran..." he said softly, and somehow Anera knew that the little lord's dream had come to pass.


	5. Four

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="39f151cf7add59af5405edc88d151b04" Brandon's father, Lord Eddard Stark, was dead. Beheaded at the orders of a boy king. Anera cared not for the games the nobles liked to play, but she had to admit that it pained her to see Brandon's face when he heard the news, even if a part of him had known it was going to happen in the first place. They hadn't discussed that dream since. The idea, frankly, frightened Anera in a way that she couldn't explain./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="deb72efe33cae2ea18a7104698e9459b" With Robb gone and Lord Eddard dead, Brandon was acting Lord of Winterfell, and he was taking the job as seriously as an eleven-year-old could. Anera stood at the back of Winterfell's great hall, watching the little lord sat at the high table address the Northern lords. "The walls of my holdfast will not stand the winter," a man was saying. "The stones were mortared last in the time of King Aerys, and I'm afraid the masons today are not fit to carry their father's hammers. When I was a boy, I remember seeing them put up a new tower in Torrhen's Square in a summer. Men worked back then. Today, my holdfast looks like it was built by drunk children. At night you can hear the wind howling through the gaps. And the Gods forbid it rains. Why, I might as well sleep beneath a waterfall."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="c40f2f6ae712e073ca3b5d87a5b0c820" Beside Brandon, Maester Luwin spoke up. "Maintenance of a holdfast generally falls to the lord of that holdfast."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="11527de0f09a66191fbe36e2b2cebfa5" "Generally, yes, but I've sent all the young men off to fight Robb Stark's war."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="e609196bfe3d45e88d40dad4077ec922" "King Robb," Brandon corrected quickly. "And it's not his war. He didn't choose it."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="75d905e69a634c41e5a6516382bd75eb" "Maybe not, my lord, but he called in his banners and took the men," the man replied./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="89d4d93a8ccb811dfcb8e7f9bf28a7f6" Brandon leaned forward slightly in his seat. "Joffrey killed my father, your liege lord. Do you remember your vows, ser?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="64c63e8b2e18f8bb533568b1daa31bf3" "Of course I remember!" the man blustered, clearly offended by the question./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="ea2042408502a7f0d2abb9e1dd9b705c" Maester Luwin interjected. "We can spare four masons for a week, my lord. Will that be sufficient to repair your walls?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="7732c970d8430a189900289c2c987381" "I- - I believe it will," the man said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="6bccce3cee801a6c6f167e1da80a99dd" He turned away to rejoin the crowd of other men. Anera saw Maester Luwin and Brandon talking quietly. She couldn't hear them from the distance, but by their expressions, they weren't happy. She wrung her hands, leaving the great hall. The presence of all of the lords was making her anxious. They all looked at her like she was less than them or little more than some piece of meat. Well, they could look all they wanted, as long as they didn't mind getting an arrow through the eye. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="9c5a586836b4cfa43b74ecba8cb4906e" She was starting to grow restless in the castle. That was why she was so thankful the next morning for a chance to venture through the Godswood with Hodor, Brandon, and Osha. She looked through the trees at the birds on their branches, their song the only sound she could hear. She was long free of her chains since just after Robb left South. Perhaps her dreams of running through the trees could one day come true. Osha kept her eyes low to the ground, examining plants. She nodded toward one and said, "boil this for an hour and drink the tea. Makes all your pain go away."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="6bbf7143e4146cd5be37d92be9ae7953" "Don't have any pain," Brandon replied from Hodor's back./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="f5763a8a41c5549027094b8707a42555" She raised an eyebrow as she picked the plant from the ground, tucking it into her sleeve. "Lucky for you," she said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="c7615c0fc9e60a59f987d2b5f49a85aa" Brandon pointed toward the weirwood tree. "That way," he said, and Hodor obeyed./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="297b58f4c9e6992ad2fcaa8d36989541" Anera raised an eyebrow as she and Osha followed him. "You've been having those dreams again, haven't you, little lord?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="5bf28e1fc35040e1999e6cc72e402902" "I don't dream," he replied./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="e83e5895adf44a012a1d0a80f7301ab3" "Everyone dreams," Osha said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="cc1ad658c21c9c8f7ac6d121764ecd4b" "I don't," he said, then changed the subject quickly. "Heard some of the men talking about the comet. They say it's an omen. They say it means Robb will win a great victory in the South."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="6702e7d7b2e81408b0103c09d78d746e" Anera's blue eyes drifted to the crimson red comet in the sky. "Did they?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="5e3a5e1ed08fcecdcf9ad37701763056" Hodor lowered to the ground, gazing at his reflection in the pool at the weirwood's base. "I heard some fools say it's Lannister red," Osha said. "Means the Lannisters will rule all seven kingdoms before long. I heard a stableboy say it's the color of blood, to mark the death of your father."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="cf5104f3a50a4674d1de63018e7a29d9" She undid the straps that kept Brandon secured to Hodor's back, lowering him to the ground. He crawled to the edge of the pool, staring into the water. "The stars don't fall for men," Osha continued. "The red comet means one thing, boy. Dragons."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="317e5f156deb18575d819c6fc3e83a6c" Brandon did not look away from his reflection as he replied, "the dragons are all dead. They've been dead for centuries."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="86ab52d48bf0e68692d7c437484b42e9" Anera wasn't quite sure that was true. She had seen giants and dead men walking beyond the Wall. Dragons would not be unimaginable. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #222222;" data-p-id="b93e84ddd40df0bcd308a7e4f27a1806" /p 


	6. Five

She stood in the balcony above Winterfell's courtyard, head in hand as she watched men practicing with weapons. Two sparred with blunted swords and the sound of steel against steel echoed throughout the yard. Some men were practicing with bows and arrows, and the sight made Anera smile sadly. She missed her bow and she had to fight everything inside her not to go down and join them with their practicing.

Soon, those men would ride off to join Robb in the Riverlands. Many of them would die fighting the Lannisters or the Baratheons or whoever the Hell they were fighting. Anera didn't care about the Southern enemies. The real enemy was Northern, really, truly, Northern, and he didn't care about who had beheaded who or which man was married to which woman. Had she been born on the other side of the Wall, perhaps she could have understood this war they were fighting. Understood why the death of Eddard Stark had sparked a rebellion or why the marriage of Renly Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell was causing such unease among the Southern lords.

She received this new information from Maester Luwin and Brandon. Maester Luwin had taken a liking to her and had begun teaching her to read with the old books in Winterfell's libraries. He was also teaching her how to write. She was learning how to act like a Southerner, but she didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Her father would have told her not to forget who she was. Where she was born and how she had grown up. But it was getting harder to remember as she learned the ways of the people of Winterfell. They were hardly different from the Free Folk, if not more organized in how they managed things. She hated to admit to herself that she was enjoying her time there, as well as the people she had come to meet in the castle. Free of Theon Greyjoy's taunting, she could joke with Brandon if she so pleased without being told to go off and do work. She was, strangely, happy.

But at night, she could not help but be restless. She had warned Robb Stark that he was marching in the wrong direction. The Southern enemies were nothing compared to what she had seen beyond the Wall. Her dead mother coming back with eyes bluer than the sky and no emotion to speak for. Her father had burned down their home in his haste to rid himself of the phantom that wore his love's face. And when the ashes settled, she was dead again, and this time, she did not come back. Anera could remember her father curling in on himself as he fell to his knees in the snow and wept.

He had told her to join the group traveling South. He hadn't wanted her to suffer through seeing someone she loved risen from the dead. She supposed she could understand why he had sent her away, but it didn't make her any less heartbroken to think of him, alone now out in the cold with no one to protect him as he got older. It was hard to force those thoughts from her mind when she was alone in her bed at night.

She dreamed sometimes of a man with black hair and eyes so clear and so blue that they looked like chips of ice. He would smile a smile that did not meet his terrible eyes and hold a dagger to her throat. Or he would hold a polished bow made with pitch black wood, an arrow aimed steadily at her heart.

If she did not dream of the man with the strange blue eyes, then she dreamed of a figure lying in the show, blood covering his chest and his face hidden from view. She would wake weeping for the death of this stranger in her dreams, searching for an imaginary weapon that she could never find. After these dreams, she would not be able to get back to sleep, instead tossing and turning for hours until the sun rose in the sky and the birds began singing in the trees. Perhaps she was losing her mind. The idea would not have surprised her.

One afternoon, Anera and Osha were serving the lords in the great hall. Brandon was doing his duties as acting lord well, Anera noted, as she listened from the back of the hall. Of course, she didn't listen too closely. Their concerns were not her own. She was glad of their leaving, but suddenly, Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's master-at-arms, was bursting into the room. "Bran- - Lord Stark," he said, coming up to face the table. "Torrhen's Square is under siege."

"Torrhen's Square is barely forty leagues from here," Maester Luwin said. "How can the Lannisters strike so far north?"

"Might be a raiding party led by the Mountain," Ser Rodrik replied. "Might be sellswords paid by Tywin Lannister."

"We have to help them," Brandon said.

"Most of the fighting men are away with Robb, but I can gather two hundred decent men," Ser Rodrik said.

"Do you need so many?" Maester Luwin asked.

"If we can't protect our own bannermen, why should they protect us?" Brandon said. "Go, Ser Rodrik. Take the men you need."

A smile played at Ser Rodrik's face. "Won't take long, my lord. Southerners don't do well up here," he said.

Osha and Anera watched him hurry from the room with a small group of guardsmen at his back.

The next morning, Osha, Anera, Brandon, and Hodor ventured through the yard, Brandon describing a dream. "So, what does it mean?" he asked, looking at the two women from Hodor's back.

"Ask your Maester Luwin," Osha said. "He's the one studying books all the time."

"I did ask him," Brandon stated. "He'd never heard of a three-eyed raven."

"Must not mean anything, then."

"You're lying."

Osha suppressed a smile. "You might be a little lord, but don't you call me a liar."

"You know what it means," Brandon pressed.

"I never said I didn't."

They stopped to help Brandon onto his horse as he said, "you didn't give me an honest answer."

"That isn't the same as being a liar, little lord," Anera pointed out.

He shook his head. "Well, it's not far off."

"So, you've been dreaming about that three-eyed raven again?" Anera asked him. "In the Godswood, you said you don't dream. That makes you the liar, little lord."

Osha and Anera offered smiles, but Brandon gave no such kindness. "What did you see in your dream?" Osha asked finally, and when he didn't answer, she pressed. "Something bad? Tell us, boy."

He hesitated, took a deep breath, and answered. "I dreamt that the sea came to Winterfell. I saw waves crashing against the gates, and the water came flowing over the walls, flooded the castle. Drowned men were floating here, in the yard. Ser Rodrik was one of them."

Anera swallowed hard, reaching to squeeze his arm. "The sea is hundreds of miles away, little lord. You don't have anything to worry about."

"I know," he said. "It's just a stupid dream."

Osha lifted the basket in her arms. "I've got to get these potatoes to the kitchen, otherwise they'll put us in chains again," she stated. "Anera, come with me."

And before Anera could protest, Osha was pulling her away from Brandon. "Osha, Anera," Brandon said, and they looked back. "The three-eyed raven, what do they say about it north of the Wall?"

Osha shook her head. "They say all sorts of crazy things north of the Wall."

She said nothing more, only took Anera by the arm and left the courtyard.


	7. Six

Morning came with men climbing over Winterfell's walls. All around the castle, people were panicking, not knowing who exactly the threat was. Anera's hands shook as she navigated the halls, trying to get to Brandon's room to find out what was happening. She forced her way through frantic people until finally she stepped through the door, closing it behind her as she shook Brandon in his bed. "Wake up, little lord," she urged.

He had just started to open his eyes when the door opened again, and Anera froze at the sight of Theon Greyjoy, a man at his back. "I've taken your castle," Theon stated.

Anera ground her teeth together, lowering her head as she tried to stop the anger building inside her. Brandon blinked a few times, focusing on the lordling stood before him. "Theon?" he asked.

"It's Prince Theon now. Get up. You have to get dressed."

Brandon looked between Anera and Theon, hesitating before he started to sit up. "I've taken Winterfell," Theon said. "I took it. I'm occupying it. I sent men over the walls with grappling claws and ropes."

Brandon's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Why?" he asked.

"To take the castle," Theon said.

"You went with Robb."

"And he sent me back to Pyke. I'm a Greyjoy. I can't fight for Robb and my father both. Where's Hodor?"

Brandon shook his head. "I don't know."

Theon looked to the man beside him. "Find the halfwit," he instructed, and the man hurried from the room.

Theon let out a breath as he started to speak again. "My men are bringing your people together in the courtyard."

"Why?" Brandon asked.

"So you and I can go down and tell them how you've yielded Winterfell to me."

"I won't."

Theon took a step toward the bed, meeting Brandon's gaze. "Yes, you will."

Brandon sat himself up so he was eye level with Theon. "I won't," he said. "I'll never yield. We'll fight you and throw you out."

Theon let out a sigh, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. His air of arrogance had faded for a moment and he spoke simply. "The castle is mine, but these people are still yours. You'll yield to keep them safe, to keep them alive. That's what a good lord would do."

When Brandon didn't answer, Theon continued. "Think carefully about what you want to say."

He stood from the bed, locking eyes with Anera. "Who the Hell let you out of chains?" he asked, but Anera didn't answer, only growled from the back of her throat.

He turned to leave, stopping when Brandon said, "Theon. Did you hate us the whole time?"

Theon had no reply to that. He simply turned and left. Anera released a weak breath, turing to face Brandon. "Let's get you dressed, little lord," she said.

When he was ready, they joined the crowd in the yard. Rain poured down on them as Brandon spoke quietly. "I've yielded Winterfell to Theon," he said.

"Louder," Theon stated. "Say Prince Theon."

"I've yielded Winterfell to Prince Theon."

Scattered murmurs washed over the people. Theon took a step forward. "You all know me," he said.

"Aye, we know you for a steaming sack of shit," a man stated.

"Farlen, you be silent," Brandon said.

Theon took a few steps toward Farlen. "Listen to your little lord, Farlen. He has more sense than you do."

"All of you should do as he commands," Brandon urged.

Theon continued. "My father has donned the ancient crown of salt and rock, and declared himself King of the Iron Islands. He claims the North as well by right of conquest. You are all his subjects."

"Bugger that. I serve the Starks," Farlen stated. "If you think you can hold the North with this- -"

"Shut up!" one of Theon's men cried, and the hilt of his sword crashed into the back of Farlen's head, sending him to the ground.

Beside Anera, Rickon recoiled, and she took his arm gently. Theon continued as a woman hurried to help Farlen back to his feet. "If you serve me as loyally as you served Ned Stark, I will be as good to you as he ever was. Betray me, and you will wish you hadn't. Maester Luwin, send a raven to Pyke informing my father of my victory here. And one to Deepwood Motte to my sister. Inform her that she's to bring five hundred men to Winterfell."

Murmurs washed over the people again when Maester Luwin said nothing. Theon glared. "You are a maester of the Citadel, sworn to serve the Lord of Winterfell, are you not?" he asked.

"I am," Maester Luwin said.

"I am the Lord of Winterfell, as Bran just informed you. Send the ravens."

"My lord," Maester Luwin said, and he looked at the ground as he left the yard.

Osha hesitated, stepping forward. "My lord Greyjoy," she said.

He turned to face her with a smirk on his face. "I see you've finally learned how to address your betters, unlike your little friend. What do you want?"

She didn't meet his gaze fully as she spoke. "I was brought here a captive. You were here the day I was taken."

He shrugged. "I'm the one who took you. What of it?"

She lowered before him. "Let me serve you," she said.

"Serve me how?" he asked. "I need fighters, not kitchen sluts."

"It was Robb Stark who put me in the kitchens. Put a spear in my hand again."

"So you can bury it in my neck? Do you take me for a fool? Get up. Step aside."

He shoved her toward Brandon, eyes landing on Anera. "Do you have anything to say?" he asked.

She took a step toward him, locking eyes. A faint smirk played at her lips as she told him, "this little game you're playing won't last long. Just know that."

She avoided the swing of his arm, catching him by the wrist. Greyjoy men started to advance on her, but Theon waved his other hand. "Wait," he instructed, and they backed down.

He looked at Anera, pulling his wrist free harshly. "Get away," he said.

A laugh escaped her. "As you wish, my prince," she spat, before she joined Osha and Brandon.

Theon started speaking again, cut off by the angry shouting of Ser Rodrik. "Greyjoy!"

Everyone looked to see Ser Rodrik being led by two Greyjoy men. They all stepped back as Theon approached him. "We caught this one on his way back from Torrhen's Square," one of the Greyjoy men said. "Took out two of ours before I got his sword."

Maester Luwin returned, joining Osha, Anera, and Brandon. They watched Theon and Ser Rodrik as Theon spoke, "Ser Rodrik, it grieves me that we meet as foes."

"It grieves me you've less honor than a back alley whore," Ser Rodrik replied. "You were raised here, under this roof. These people are your people."

"They are not my people," Theon stated.

"Kind Robb thought of you as a brother."

"My brothers are dead. They died fighting Stark men, men like you."

"Aye, they died fighting a war your father started. Lord Stark raised you among his own sons."

"Among them, but not one of them. I was his hostage taken from my home."

Ser Rodrik shook his head. "If he were alive to see this- -" he began.

"He's not," Theon spat. "He's dead. The Seven Kingdoms are at war. And Winterfell is mine."

"I should have put a sword in your belly instead of in your hand."

Theon let out a sharp breath. "You've served this house faithfully, old man. But keep talking and I'll- -"

He was cut off by Ser Rodrik spitting at him. The knight was pulled away then and forced to the dirt. "Take him to the cells," Theon stated. "Lock him up a- -"

"My prince," one of his men stated, "you cannot let that stand. He must pay."

"I'll lock him in a cell until he rots- -" Theon began, but the man interjected.

"No, he has to pay the iron price. They'll never respect you while he lives."

Theon's green eyes went wide at that. He looked between the man, Ser Rodrik, and Brandon. He nodded stiffly. "Ser Rodrik," he said, "I sentence you to death."

Outrage from the people. Anera felt herself stiffen a great deal, her fingers curling into tight fists. "No!" Brandon cried. "You said no harm would come to them if I yielded."

"The old man couldn't keep his mouth shut," Theon snapped in response.

Maester Luwin hurried to take Theon by the shoulders. "I urge you not to make a hasty decision," he said.

"He disrespected me in front of my men," Theon said. "That was his decision, not mine!"

"He is worth more to you alive than dead," Maester Luwin said. "The Starks will pay. Please, Theon, think what you do."

Theon breathed slowly, not answering for a long moment. "You'll address me as Prince Theon or you'll be next," he stated finally.

"Come," one of Theon's men stated, and the others began to drag Ser Rodrik to the center of the courtyard.

"No!" Brandon shouted.

Rickon joined in the begging, tears streaming down his face. "No!"

"Theon!" Brandon cried, his voice strained by sobs.

Anera took hold of his arm, whispering. "It's all right. It's all right."

But it wasn't, and she knew that for certain. Brandon's cries continued. "Please! Ser Rodrik!"

Theon stopped in front of Ser Rodrik, whose anger never wavered as he said, "he who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Coward."

They forced Ser Rodrik to the ground as Theon took a greatsword from the sheath at his hip. He looked like a small child being given his first sparring sword, his grip awkward on the weapon. "Stop! Stop right now!" Brandon shouted.

"You don't give commands anymore, little lord," Theon replied.

"Please, stop this. Please stop him," Brandon urged Maester Luwin.

Ser Rodrik's eyes fell upon the little lord. "Hush now, child," he said. "I'm off to see your father."

Brandon's cries were not diminished and tears continued to steam down his face. Anera fought the urge to cry at the sight of him. She lowered her head with a weak breath. "Any last words, old man?" Theon demanded.

Ser Rodrik looked up at him. "Gods help you, Theon Greyjoy," he said. "Now you are truly lost."

Theon raised the sword, bringing it down hard. Ser Rodrik let out a gasp as the blade sank into his neck. It did not pass through cleanly. Screams erupted from the crowd. Theon pulled the sword free, swinging again. A burst of blood sprayed up to hit his face, but still, the sword did not pass through Ser Rodrik's neck. He swung again, and certainly the old knight was dead, now, but his head still did not come off. He raised his leg, forcing it down hard at the base of Ser Rodrik's neck. His head toppled as the people screamed horribly. Theon stumbled unsteadily on his feet, turning to look at Brandon. He met Anera's gaze for a moment but she did nothing, only closed her eyes as she felt tears rolling down her cheeks.


	8. Seven

Anera had talked over the plan with Osha. Gone over it in her head. But it didn't stop the feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach as one of the Greyjoy men led her to Theon's room. She just needed to distract him. That was all it would take to let Bran, Rickon, and Osha get away. She kept her head down while the men led her. She wouldn't show them how angry she was, nor how proud.

Theon was unimpressed by her words as she stood in the doorway of his room. "And why should I trust you after that little stunt you pulled outside?" he asked.

"I'm not a liar," she replied.

"You're a wilding," he said. "That makes you a liar and a savage with no loyalty to speak for."

"All I've done is what I've had to survive. The Starks took me captive. I hate them just as much as you do, my prince. Allow met to serve you."

"How? And don't tell me you want your bow back."

She shrugged free of the man's grip, moving to take Theon by the shoulder. "There's many other ways to serve, my prince."

"Like what?" he asked, turning to meet her gaze.

She smirked at that, moving to whisper in his ear. "I know things, my prince. Savage things."

He seemed to understand, looking at the man in the doorway. "Wait outside," he instructed, and the man did as told, taking care to close the door behind him.

She took a step back, slowly untying her dress, allowing it to fall at her feet. She stood bare before him. He raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty under that dress."

At that, she chuckled. "Aren't I pretty even with it?"

He had no response, and she took a step toward him. "It comes at a price."

"You're alive, that's all you get," he replied.

"I want my freedom. Mine and Osha's. And then, the real fun can begin."

He looked her over one more time, nodding. "Then you'll have it. Both of you. But I'll only give it to you if you serve me well."

She smiled, drawing him into a kiss. He tasted like wine and fresh apples. Warm hands wandered across her bare skin and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

By the time Theon had fallen asleep beside her in the bed, Anera's heart was racing. There was a dagger on the bedside table. She could slit his throat and be done with it, kill him while he slept. But, strangely, she didn't want to. She had imagined this moment in her mind so many times, but now, given the chance, she was refusing it.

She found her dress on the floor, pulling it back on. She took the dagger for good measure as she slipped out of the room. There was a guard just outside. She tried her best to creep past, but the sound of his voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "Just where do you think you're going?"

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto her face as she looked at him. "Prince Theon wanted me to give you something."

"What?" he demanded.

"Me. He says I have to make my rounds. Keep you men warm."

She brought one hand to the man's shoulder, smiling faintly. Before anything more could be done, she sank the dagger into his throat, feeling the spray of blood on her face when she jerked it free. She pressed a hand to his mouth so he couldn't cry out as he dropped to the ground. She whistled twice and Rickon came running from the shadows, Osha and Hodor following, with Brandon strapped to Hodor's back. The direwolves, Shaggydog and Summer, came last. Osha stopped in front of Anera. "You're sure you want to stay?" she asked softly.

"You protect the boys," Anera said. "I can keep Theon occupied."

She handed Osha the dagger. "What if he notices it's gone?" Osha asked.

"I'll say I was asleep. That someone snuck in and took it. I'll take the blame."

Osha nodded stiffly, hesitating a brief moment before she pulled Anera into a hug. It lasted only a moment, but Anera still smiled when Osha released her. "Go," she urged. "I have to get back."

Osha nodded again, taking Rickon by the shoulder as the small party hurried away. Anera watched them go. Once they had disappeared from sight, she returned to Theon's room, undressing before she climbed into the bed. She thought, for a moment, that everything might be all right, when Theon spoke softly. "Where were you?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she considered her options. Finally, she answered. "Nowhere, my prince," she said, and she moved to kiss him again.


	9. Eight

Anera hadn't thought she would fall asleep in Theon's bed. But, there she was, entangled in his arms and blinking away the remains of sleep as the light of morning filtered through the windows, casting the room in dancing shadows. For a moment she savored in the warmth of his skin against her own. She hesitated a moment before she closed her eyes, burying herself beneath the blankets. She could go back to sleep like this, and perhaps she would have, had it not been for the sound of the door opening. She jumped despite herself, and Theon's eyes flew open.

His gaze darted to one of the Greyjoy men stood in the doorway. "What is it?" he demanded.

The man didn't even seem surprised. "My prince, there's something you need to see."

Theon glared, fumbling to free himself from the blankets. "I'll be out in a moment," he said, and the man left without another word.

His eyes landed on Anera. "You'll stay here," he said.

She nodded, sitting up just enough to kiss him on the cheek. "Of course, my prince," she whispered in his ear.

He seemed to hesitate before he got to his feet. "No distractions. The castle is mine, now. I have to do my duties."

He dressed in silence, Anera watching from the bed. He would lock her in the room, she knew that for certain. And she also knew why he was needed. The Greyjoy men had found the body by now and realized that Osha, Bran, Rickon, and Hodor were missing. They would need their Prince to tell them how to proceed.

Once Theon left the room, Anera let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She settled into the bed, letting her head fall back onto the pillow. She had lost her mind, sleeping with a man she hated. Or did she even hate him anymore? A part of her didn't even know, and that was, frankly, a bit frightening to think of.

She hadn't even realized she had fallen back asleep until the sound of the door opening startled her awake. She looked up to see Maester Luwin, and quickly she pulled the blankets around herself. "What's happening?" she asked.

His eyes were frantic. "Rickon and Bran are gone. Your friend is with them. I need to know, do you know anything about this?"

Anera swallowed hard. "I helped them escape. Why? Is everything all right?"

"I fear Theon will kill those boys if he finds them," Maester Luwin replied, and at that she stiffened.

"He's hunting them?" she asked.

"He's got hounds and all his men terrorizing farmers for information."

She nodded stiffly. "I won't tell him anything. I don't know where they've gone, but I have to protect myself, and he'll kill me for helping them."

Maester Luwin nodded at that. "You cannot say a word."

Theon gathered everyone in the yard that morning. Anera was among them, quiet. "I told you what would happen," Theon stated. "All of you- - I told you what would happen if you served me loyally, and what would happen if you did not."

Two guardsmen dragged Maester Luwin into the crowd as he demanded, "what are you doing? What have you done?"

Theon continued from in front of all the people. "If there's still any who question whether your new lord means what he says, here is the answer to your question."

Behind him, two men hauled ropes up the wall. Anera's eyes went horribly wide at the sight of two children, bodies blackened and burned. Gasps escaped the crowd and a sob caught in Anera's throat. "No!" Maester Luwin cried, the sound seeming to echo through the yard.

Theon tried his hardest to keep a satisfied smirk on his face, but Anera saw it fall away for only a moment.

When the guardsmen dragged her back to Theon's room, she found herself sobbing. Her hands were shaking with rage and anguish. It was as if all of the air had escaped her lungs. She couldn't breathe. The moment Theon returned, she flew at him, slapping him hard across the face. Before she could hit him again, his hand curled around her wrist. "You killed them," she said, voice strangled with tears.

Theon seemed to hesitate a moment. He loosened his grip on her wrist. "It's not Bran and Rickon," he said.

She blinked through her tears, confusion evident in her expression. "What do you mean?"

"It isn't them. Just two farm boys. I couldn't find them."

She didn't know what to say. He looked crestfallen, tears starting to well in his eyes. Before she could stop herself she was leaning close, kissing him softly.

She didn't understand what she was doing, but as Theon kissed her back, she decided that perhaps he wasn't as bad as she had thought before.


	10. Nine

Yara Greyjoy arrived at Winterfell one morning. Anera watched her ride through the gate with a group of men at her back. Yara circled Theon on the back of her horse a few times before she rode on past him without a word. Anera watched Theon's smile fall. She couldn't stop herself from making her way over to him, taking his arm. He froze at the touch, then, slowly, relaxed.

He allowed her to join him as he stepped into the dining hall to see Yara and her men eating. "Why it's the Prince of Winterfell," Yara said, which earned the laughter of her men. Her eyes fell on Anera and she added, "who's this pretty thing?"

"Envy isn't attractive," Theon said.

"Envy?" Yara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You should be proud of your brother's achievement. I took the great castle of Winterfell with twenty men."

Yara rolled her eyes. "You're a great warrior," she said. "I saw the bodies above your gates. Which one gave you the tougher fight, the cripple or the six-year-old?"

Her men broke into laughter and Anera closed her eyes. Brandon and Rickon may have been alive, but there were still two boys dead. Theon was growing angry. "I treated the Stark boys with honor," he stated as he moved to look Yara in the eyes, "and they repaid me with treachery."

"You treated them with honor?" Yara demanded. "By butchering them?"

"Before I had to kill them I treated them- -" he began.

"You seized their home, as is your right. We're ironborn, we take what we need."

"Exactly."

"Then you made them prisoners in their home and they ran away. Is that treachery? I'd call it bravery."

"They made me a promise," Theon stated.

"Your little boy prisoners made you a promise and you got mad when they broke it?" she asked. "Are you the dumbest cunt alive?"

"Don't call me a- -"

"A cunt? A dumb cunt who killed the only two Starks in Winterfell? You know how valuable those boys were."

"If I didn't kill them, the Northerners would think me weak," Theon said.

"You are weak," Yara replied. "And you're stupid."

"I'm warning you."

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Go on, then," she stated. "Warn me."

Her man lowered their cups to look at Theon, who stood stiff, unmoving. He breathed out a sigh, looking at the men. "You haven't brought enough men," he said finally. "How am I supposed to defend Winterfell with just this lot?"

"You're not," Yara said. "I've come to bring you home. Father wants a word."

"Is this a joke? Winterfell is the heart of the North."

"Aye, it is. Hundreds of miles from the sea. We're islanders, baby brother, or have you forgotten that? Our power comes from our ships. And now that you've decorated your walls with the bodies of the Stark boys, every man in the North wants to see you hanged. When Robb Stark finds out- -"

"He won't find out," Theon interjected. "We've killed all the ravens. We have all the horses. I've taken Winterfell. And I will keep Winterfell."

Yara shook her head. "Leave us," she said to her men, and then she looked at Anera. "You, too, beautiful."

Anera hesitated a moment, looking at Theon. He gave a nod which she returned before she joined the crowd of men leaving the room.

Anera had begun spending her nights in Theon's room. And much of her day. Wandering the courtyard no longer held any enjoyment for her. The bodies that loomed overhead were too terrible for her to look at. It was not Brandon and Rickon, only two farm boys, but it still pained her to see their small bodies, burned and blackened and strung up for everyone to see. She should have hated Theon for it, but she didn't, strangely, and that was terrifying for her. She had promised herself that she would kill him, but every night she spent in his bed, that thought would fade just a bit more. She couldn't help but to think that maybe, maybe, her hatred for Thoen Greyjoy was becoming something else.

Men surrounded Winterfell one morning. At the ramparts, one of them blew a horn as loud as he could. The sound seemed to bounce off the very walls. Anera thought she was going to go mad hearing the sound all day with no quiet. She sat perched on the arm of Theon's chair in front of a warm fire. The firelight cast the room in faint orange and red, making her black hair shine a deep burgundy color. "I will kill that man," Theon stated as the horn blew again outside. "I don't care how many arrows they feather me with, how many spears they run through me, I will kill that horn-blowing cunt before I fall."

From the doorway, Maester Luwin answered, "they want you to know you're surrounded."

"I know I'm surrounded," Theon said. "I know that because I stood on the battlements and saw I was surrounded."

"They don't want you to sleep," Maester Luwin said. "They want to sap your spirit before- -"

"Thank you, wise bald man. Thank you for explaining siege tactics to me."

Anera sighed as the horn let out three long blasts. "No word from my father?" Theon asked.

"No," Maester Luwin replied, and he stepped further into the room.

"Send more ravens," Theon instructed.

"You killed all the ravens."

Theon shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. "The first time I saw Winterfell..." he was cut off by the sound of the horn starting up again. "The first time I saw Winterfell, it looked like something that had been here for thousands of years and would be here for thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought, 'of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers. We never stood a chance against a man who lives here.'"

"Lord Stark went out of his way to make it your home," Maester Luwin stated.

"Yes, my captors were so very kind to me," Theon snapped. "You love reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has always loved reminding me of that. You know what it's like to be told how lucky you are to be someone's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them?"

Maester Luwin said nothing. Tears were beginning to form in Theon's eyes as he continued. "And then to go back home to your real father..." the horn blew once again, and suddenly Theon was on his feet, nearly knocking Anera to the floor.

"I will kill that man!" he cried out the window. "I swear it to the Drowned God, the Old Gods, the New Gods, to every fucking god in every fucking heaven, I will kill that man!"

"Theon, listen to me," Maester Luwin said. "I serve Winterfell. Now Winterfell is yours. I'm bound by oath to serve you."

"And what's your counsel, trusted friend?" Theon asked.

"Run," Maester Luwin said. "Five hundred Northmen wait outside the walls. You have twenty men. You can't win. Wait for nightfall and run."

"There's nowhere to run," Theon replied. "I'd never make it back to the Iron Islands. And even if I did, even if by some miracle I slipped through the lines and made it home, I'd be a coward. The Greyjoy who ran. The shame of the family."

He sat back down in his chair, letting Anera squeeze his arm reassuringly. "Don't go home," Maester Luwin said after a moment, moving to take Theon's shoulder. "Join the Night's Watch. Once a man has taken the black, he's beyond reach of the law. All his past crimes are forgiven."

"I won't make it to the Wall," Theon said. "I won't make it ten feet past the Winterfell gates."

"There are ways. Hidden passageways built so the lords of Winterfell could escape. The road will be dangerous. But with a little luck..." he moved to meet Theon's gaze fully. "The Night's Watch is an ancient, honorable order. You'll have opportunities there."

Theon surged to his feet. "The opportunity for Jon Snow to cut my throat in my sleep," he spat.

"The opportunity for you to make amends for what you've done," Maester Luwin corrected and Theon looked out the window into the darkness.

"I've done a lot, haven't I?" Theon asked. "Things I never imagined myself doing."

Maester Luwin shook his head. "I've known you many years, Theon Greyjoy. You're not the man you're pretending to be."

He took Theon by the shoulder once more. "Not yet," he said.

Theon nodded weakly. "You may be right," he agreed. "But I've gone too far to pretend to be anything else."

The horn cut through the silence in the room, and Anera closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.


	11. Ten

When Maester Luwin had gone from the room, Anera rose from her perch on Theon's chair. She moved to join him in front of the window, taking his arm. He stiffened momentarily, allowing himself to relax after a moment. "What?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she said. "Are you all right?"

He pulled free of her grip. "Of course I'm all right. What kind of stupid question is that?"

"I meant no offense, my prince," she said, biting back a retort.

He turned to face her, his green eyes locking with her blue ones. "You hated me," he stated. "You should still hate me. I took you captive. Why are you here?"

"I promised I could serve you," she said, and he shook his head.

"You're lying," he said. "I can tell. Tell me the truth, or you'll regret it."

She hesitated, taking him by the hand. She smoothed her thumb over his knuckles. "I don't hate you," she admitted then. "Not anymore. Or, at least not as much as I did before."

He rolled his eyes, starting to pull his hand away. She tightened her grip, looking at him closely. "I'm telling the truth," she said.

He seemed to think for a moment. "You helped them escape," he said, and the silence that followed was agonizing.

"I did," she said finally. "But I had to."

Before Theon could answer her, she kissed him, pulling him close so their chests were pressed together. She freed his hand to wrap her arms around his neck, and when they broke apart gasping for air, she let her forehead rest against his. "I don't hate you," she said once more. "And perhaps I never did."

Theon called his men to the yard the next morning. Anera watched from a distance, listening as Theon spoke. "You hear that?" he said as the horn's sound sliced through the morning quiet. "That's the mating call of the Northmen. They want to fuck us. Well, I haven't had a good fuck in weeks. I'm ready for one."

Anera rolled her eyes at that. Theon caught her gaze as the men laughed, and he offered her a smile to show he was joking before he continued speaking. "They say every ironborn man is worth a dozen from the mainland," he said.

"Aye!" the men agreed.

"You think they're right?"

"Aye!"

"We die today, brothers. We die bleeding from a hundred wounds with arrows in our necks and spears in our guts, but our war cries will echo through eternity. They will sing about the Battle of Winterfell until the Iron Islands have slipped beneath the waves. Every man, woman, and child will know who we were and how long we stood. Aggar and Gelmarr; Wex and Urzen; Stygg and Black Loren- - ironborn warriors will cry out our names as they leap onto the shores of Seaguard and Faircastle."

"Aye!"

"Mothers will name their sons for us!"

"Aye!"

"Girls will think of us with their lovers inside them!"

"Aye!"

The horn blasted again, and Theon was grinning as he shouted, "and whoever kills that fucking horn-blower will stand in bronze above the shores of Pyke!"

"Aye!" the ironborn cried.

"What is dead may never die!"

"What is dead may never die!"

Theon let out a war cry. He was cut short suddenly by a hard hit to the back of his head with the butt of a spear. He dropped and Anera's eyes went wide. "Thought he'd never shut up," one of the ironborn stated.

Another shrugged. "It was a good speech. Didn't want to interrupt."

One of the men put a bag over Theon's head as a few others turned to look at Anera. "What do we do with her?" one asked, and the others had no reply.

Maester Luwin pushed his way forward. "What is this?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

Anera let out a scream as an ironborn stabbed Maester Luwin in the stomach with his spear, forcing the old man to the ground. "Let's go home," the man said simply. "One of you take the girl if you want her."

Anera hurried to Maester Luwin's side, ignoring the ironborn that surrounded her. "Please don't die," she whispered. "Please, please, live."

He looked up at her, shaking his head. "Go with Theon. You can protect him."

"I won't leave you," she stated.

He moved slowly, squeezing her hand. "Go. Go with the ironborn. Stay with Theon."

She nodded obediently. "I'm sorry this happened to you," she said.

"Bran and Rickon are here. With Osha and Hodor. They've been hiding in the crypts," he said softly.

"They'll be safe," Anera said. "It's Northmen who are outside the walls. They'll protect them."

"And you need to protect yourself. Go. Hurry."

She nodded one more time, getting to her feet. She closed her eyes, holding back tears as she ran to follow the ironborn.


End file.
